


Aurora and Abyss

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Scuba Diving, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: The Doctor wants to show Clara something amazing, but it means venturing down into a freezing ocean in the dead of night...





	Aurora and Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by imaginary_golux and infinite_regress!
> 
> Apparently phosphorescent plankton that shine when you disturb them are a real thing.

Clara stares down into the roiling waters, the light from the TARDIS glinting off the waves the only sign there is anything below. The water licks against the rope ladder dangling down from the old police box. Even by their standards, going diving in icy, inky waters is suicidal. She doesn’t want to think about what it means that she is still even considering it, let alone that she’s kind of turned on, her skin warm and sensitive with the wetsuit pressing against it. “There you are,” she calls as the Doctor approaches. 

“Thought you’d start without me,” he half-grumps.

“Never. Into the void together, like always.” They clasp rubber-clad hands. “Geronimo?”

“Geronimo,” he agrees, one silver curl escaping playfully from the black rubber hood, utterly ruining his serious expression. She smiles up at him and tucks it into place before they secure their breathing masks. 

They leap into the water and sink down through the fathoms, silvery bubbles tracing their paths, reflecting the gleaming of the moon and the stars. _This is the first of the blooms_ , his voice echoing in her head as she remembers what he had said earlier. _The oceans will be saturated with life, microscopic plankton. The plankton photoluminesce when agitated, shining like stars, or the aurora borealis._ It hadn’t escaped her that he’d looked at her eyes when he’d said this.

Swirls of green and cerulean start to form around their feet as they continue to sink. She would gasp except for the breather in her mouth. She has to settle for an excited squeeze of his hand--and, more exciting, his return squeeze. She drags her hand around, watching trails of light form behind her fingertips. She feels like a sorceress, and maybe, she thinks as she watches him watch her, she is. 

They stay there until she almost loses track of time, the water leaching heat from her, the cold forgotten as the light blossoms around her, purple puffs and mauve clouds. He tugs her upward, back up to the surface, great orange bursts like rocket fire exploding from their legs as they kick for the surface. With numb fingers, she grabs hold of the rope ladder, climbing awkwardly with her fins and her chilled extremities.

“You’re cold,” he announces as they shuck off their fins and masks, a terrific understatement. Without further preamble, he grabs her to him, his body hot against hers. _That’s strange_ , she thinks; _his skin is usually cool to the touch_. Is she that cold, or is he adjusting his body temperature?

“I know one way we could warm up,” she blurts out, and now she knows that the cold has shut down her higher brain function. (Hopefully it’s just the adrenaline?) “A way that doesn’t involve any clothes,” she continues before she can scold her hindbrain back into the shadows.

“I agree: a hot bath is just what we need.” She blinks, her inferior human cerebellum taking precious seconds to understand his words before brisk hands peel her out of her suit. She doesn’t object--far from it, she’s fantasized about this, or something like this. Usually she’s giving orders, but the feeling of those hands, so powerful but so careful on her bare skin as they ease her into the hot tub. He slides in next to her, the water rippling over her shoulders. 

“Mmm, that is nice. Wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but give me a minute until I can feel my toes again.”

“What did you--” he begins cluelessly before she kisses him. “Oh.”

“Is this okay?” she asks as her hand presses to his chest, thin and wiry. He nods eagerly and maybe a little terrified as her fingers slip down over the bit of dough around his middle to wrap around his prick. 

“Slow,” he whispers in her ear as she curls up by him, hair dripping in her eyes. She nods and kisses him again, slow and dark and all-claiming like the abyss, the sparks between them glittering like the aurora borealis.

 

 


End file.
